It was describing a spiral, the circumference of which was lessening
by degrees, and the boat, which was still fastened to its side,
was carried along with giddy speed. I felt that sickly giddiness
which arises from long-continued whirling round.
We were in dread. Our horror was at its height, circulation had stopped,
all nervous influence was annihilated, and we were covered with cold sweat,
like a sweat of agony! And what noise around our frail bark!
What roarings repeated by the echo miles away! What an uproar was that
of the waters broken on the sharp rocks at the bottom, where the hardest
bodies are crushed, and trees worn away, "with all the fur rubbed off,"
according to the Norwegian phrase!
What a situation to be in! We rocked frightfully. The Nautilus
defended itself like a human being. Its steel muscles cracked.
Sometimes it seemed to stand upright, and we with it!
"We must hold on," said Ned, "and look after the bolts.
We may still be saved if we stick to the Nautilus."
He had not finished the words, when we heard a crashing noise,
the bolts gave way, and the boat, torn from its groove, was hurled
like a stone from a sling into the midst of the whirlpool.
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